Like, seriously. What in the actual $*&% am I supposed to do.
A real hurricane is headed our way and yet, I already feel like I am in one.
How many fires a day can one firefighter endure before she needs a break?
So many little personalities, so many big needs.
The demands seem insurmountable.
Until I remember where I’ve been.
And how much more challenging it truly can be.
So, I cry. I mourn my inability to juggle it all. To feel like a “good” mom.
And I focus, instead, on what I do have.
A family. A free country. Health. Resources.
And I begin again.